The Box
by Fira Wolf-Hunter
Summary: What if Cullen had actually hit the Inquisitor when he threw the lyrium box? One-shot. Set in the same Universe as my fic, "Cullen."


_The Box_

Evangeline could hear the shouting before she opened the door, but the few words she heard before it swung open were not enough to tell her what he was shouting _about_. She stepped inside the room, and Cullen immediately quieted. He looked at her, but did not look into her eyes. She stepped closer to him, brows drawn together in concern. He sighed and walked past her with a soft, "Forgive me."

She turned to watch him go, wanting to say something – _anything_ – so that he would never look so defeated again. But whatever words she wished would come never did.

"And people say _I'm_ stubborn," Cassandra called to his back. "This is ridiculous."

The door shut with a resounding _slam_. Evangeline flinched, and wondered whether to go after him or to leave him be. Cassandra answered the question for her by speaking.

"Cullen has told you that he is no longer taking lyrium?"

"Yes," she sighed. "And I respect his decision." So _that's_ what this was all about.

Cassandra's arms uncrossed themselves and fell to her side. "As do I. Not that he's willing to listen. Cullen has asked that I recommend a replacement for him."

Evangeline put her face in her hand. That sounded like Cullen, all right: never very sure of himself, always imagining that someone else – _anyone_ else – could do his job better than he could.

"I refused," the Seeker continued. "It's not necessary. Besides, it would destroy him. He's come so far."

Inquisitor Trevelyan faced the fire, staring into it. Quietly, she asked – more to herself than to Cassandra – "Why didn't he come to _me_ …?"

Cassandra held her arms behind her back and faced the fire as well. "We had an agreement long before you joined us. As a Seeker, I could evaluate the dangers. And he wouldn't want to… risk your disappointment."

Evangeline winced and nodded. Of course he wouldn't. He had never even believed that he was 'worthy' of her. "Oh, Cullen," she whispered. She thought about things for a moment, and then sucked in a breath and pushed on. "Is there anything we can do to change his mind?"

"If _anyone_ could," Cassandra replied, "it's you. Mages have made their suffering known, but Templars never have. They are bound to the Order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash. Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself – and anyone who would follow suit – that it's possible. He _can_ do this. I knew that when we met in Kirkwall. Talk to him. Decide if _now_ is the time."

Evangeline looked up and watched the Seeker walk away. She turned to stare into the flames again, and then closed her eyes against their heat and braced herself for the conversation with Cullen. It would not be an easy one…

* * *

She stepped through the doorway, mind spinning, trying to come up with the best way to approach Cullen on the subject of his lyrium addiction. And suddenly something heavy slammed into her head. She fell to the ground, one hand clutching the side of her face, and the other crackling with Magical energy. She had gone into Fight Mode, and, being a healer, not a fighter, she attempted to place a Barrier around herself. The sphere of blue-tinted Magic flickered once, and then it disappeared.

Her head was splitting. She could feel blood between her fingers. She had no idea what had just hit her, but it hurt like the Void. She was making pain noises, she knew, whimpering and gritting her teeth to keep from screaming. And someone was saying her name. She finally opened her eyes enough to see Cullen's face hovering right next to her. He looked… like he had just murdered someone. She didn't understand – her mind was too fuzzy, and there was too much pain. She couldn't concentrate long enough to heal the head wound herself. In a moment of clarity, she grunted out the words, "Solas. Cullen. Get – Solas."

He hovered for another moment, eyes wide and afraid and watery. And then he was gone. She rocked in place, kneeling on the stone floor of his office. She could have been like that for hours – days – and she would not have noticed. Her head was still swimming, aching.

Solas was there, kneeling in front of her. "Move your hand," he commanded, and she complied, feeling the stickiness of the blood that tried to glue her hand to her head. She didn't know where Cullen had gone. She did not see him when he sat on the ground far away from her, and buried his face into his arms, rested on his knees. She squeezed her eyes shut as her friend worked his Healing Magic. A minute or two later, he sat back. "There," he said, in his soft, strange voice. "It is done. Whatever hit you…" His eyes traveled behind her, to Cullen's now broken lyrium box. "Whatever hit you gave you a minor concussion, but I healed it. You should be fine, and you do not have a scar from the healing process."

Solas stood and turned to Cullen, whose face was still buried in his arms. "I may not have healed her entirely. Concussions can be… difficult. Do not let her fall asleep for at least the next hour. If she does, and you cannot wake her, come get me immediately."

Cullen lifted a hand to let Solas know he'd heard him, but kept his face down. With a nod, the Elf left, and Evangeline and Cullen were alone.

Silence reigned for a long moment – aside from the slight ringing in the Inquisitor's ears – and then she heard Cullen let out a very loud sob. Her heart twisted inside her chest. She glanced back at the broken box he had thrown – never meaning to throw it at _her_ – and then crawled towards him. His shoulders shook as he continued to sob, and she realized this was the second time she had seen him cry.

She placed a shaking hand on his arm, but he was wearing his armor and probably didn't feel it, so she began to run her fingers through his hair instead. He gasped and looked up at her, eyes bloodshot, face distorted by whatever awful emotions were running through him. She looked at him without speaking, feeling very sad for him. But she knew how he was. There was nothing she could say that would make him feel better about this.

His eyes roamed over her face, clearly looking for any sign of damage. Seeing none, he sighed in relief, and then let out another sob and leaned down and kissed her. He held her face very gingerly in his hands, and kissed her over and over again, leaving tears on her skin. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her chin. Traveled down to her neck and kissed her there, too. All the while choking on sobs. Finally, he just pulled her to his chest and held her there, and rocked, and cried.

* * *

Evangeline had no idea how long they had been sitting there. Cullen had stopped crying some time ago. She looked up at him, and he stared down at her with empty eyes. He was exhausted. She touched his face softly and he closed his eyes and breathed shakily. Then, she stood, and stretched. She'd been curled against him for hours – which was nice, but now her body needed to move around or she'd have kinks in her back and her neck for a week. She looked down at the broken box, one corner covered in blood, and slowly bent down to pick it up.

Cullen sucked in a breath behind her and said, "Don't."

She picked it up anyways, and turned to face him. "It's just a box, Cullen," she said gently.

"I…" He looked at the floor.

"Where do you want me to put it?"

"In a fire," he growled.

She looked down at the box, at the intricate carvings in the wood. "It's a beautiful box," she argued.

" _I don't want it_!" He didn't quite shout, but his voice was louder than she had expected it to be.

She nodded and turned, and placed it beside the door, but not in the way of anyone walking in or out. She didn't know what she would do with it, but she knew he would never want to see it again. She went to him, and sat down beside him, resting her head against the fur cloak he always wore 'round his shoulders. "Please don't try to apologize," she whispered.

"You don't think I should feel _sorry_ for _throwing a box at you_?" he asked, sounding angry and bitter.

"You didn't throw it _at_ me."

"I might as well have. I should never have thrown it in the first place. Even if you _hadn't_ been there. Which – I didn't know you were there until I heard you… scream and… I'm sorry."

"Don't," she said. "I forgave you before you even threw it. Because I love you."

"I don't deserve you, Evangeline," he whispered.

" _Don't_ ," she repeated, turning to kneel in front of him and placing a hand against his cheek. "I will have _none_ of that, Commander Cullen," she insisted, using her best Inquisitor Voice. "You _will_ stay with me, or I will…" Her words faltered. He looked up at her with sad, curious eyes. "I can't do this without you," she finally whispered. "Please don't leave me because you think you're not worthy of me. I love you. Please…"

He stared at her for a few moments, and then inhaled sharply and pulled her to his chest again. "I _won't_ ," he said, and his voice was determined and strong. "I will _never_ leave you. _Never_. I love you."


End file.
